


What You Want

by aeriiin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Inspired by Hanzo's new Summer event skin!, Late Night Conversations, Light Pining, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 09:06:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19849969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeriiin/pseuds/aeriiin
Summary: Jesse shrugged, tipping his hat back. “Let’s say you got to choose what you got inked on that arm of yours, or your leg, or wherever you wanted. What’dya think you would’ve gotten?”He wasn’t being told to draw something. Jesse was simply asking. It was such a novel concept, and yet here Hanzo was realizing how few people actually asked him to do anything.





	What You Want

**Author's Note:**

> a short piece inspired by hanzo's tattoo in his new skin and stuff!!

“Last time you went to the beach.”

“Two months ago, in Ilios.”

Jesse huffed into his beer bottle before taking a final swig. “Don’t feel like that counts. We were on a job.”

Hanzo thought for a moment. “Then... over four years, in Thailand. My target had been taken out by some other hunter, and I had only just arrived. I spent the day in Koh Samui before flying back to the mainland.”

“Never been.” Jesse admitted with a shrug. His empty bottle clinked against the rooftop as he set it by his hip. “Hear it’s nice, though.” 

“It was, yes. The resort-goers, however, deterred me from staying any longer.” 

“Too many of ‘em?”

He sneered. “Too rich.”

Jesse tipped his head back and laughed in that hearty way that made his stomach flutter. On nights like these, where it was only the two of them on this lonely rooftop under the glittering sky of stars, that laugh became all the brighter and all the bolder to him. It was so easy to drown himself in that rambunctious sound and forget all others.

_ Far too easy,  _ his half-sober mind concluded. Hanzo tore his gaze away and lifted his own beer to his lips, but realized it had been drained long ago, and set it down beside Jesse’s. “Do you actually know how to square dance?”

The man gave a few last chuckles before nodding, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Sure do. Gym glass, second grade. Everyone had to do it, along with this weird cup-stackin’ thing.”

“Cup-stacking?” Hanzo snorted. “You’re joking.”

“God, I wish I was.” Jesse sighed. “Alright, lemme think now…”

He tried not to stare at the wistful look of deep thought that crossed Jesse’s face. He was getting better at reading the other’s expressions, or maybe Jesse was just being more open with them than before. Maybe it was just his imagination, like those small knowing smiles, or those sidelong glances he thinks Hanzo doesn’t notice. Like the one he swore he saw just now, out of the corner of his eye, of Jesse’s eyes darting down to his arm. His hand. Maybe the beer bottles.

Too many maybes, not enough certainty.

“How’s ‘bout,” Jesse started to say, but then shook his head and waved his hand. “Eh, nah.”

Hanzo sat forward. The man had asked stranger things before, even without a drink to blame it on. “What? Speak.”

There it was again, another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sideways glance that could’ve been a trick of the light, and then Jesse sighed. “Alright, but don’t feel like you gotta answer this one.”

“As if I was forced to answer all your other questions.” The remark earned him a playful shove and a smirk.

“Smartass.” Jesse leaned back, resting flush against the entrance to the roof and gesturing towards Hanzo’s side with one hand. “So, alright, that... tattoo of yours. D’you,” he made a motion with his hand as if it would help him finish his sentence. “D’you actually like it?”

Hanzo blinked. Of all the questions they asked, this was truly the first to take him off-guard so abruptly. His... tattoo? He found himself looking down at his arm, gazing over the patterns of scales and clouds he had memorized long ago.

The shock must have shown plainly on his face, because Jesse rambled ahead almost nervously. “Not that it ain’t a nice bit of ink, but, was it, y’know, your first choice design-wise?” The man scratched at his beard. “I’m… I’m soundin’ like an ass, aren’t I?”

Hanzo realized he hadn’t said anything and should stop Jesse before he worried himself to death. “No, it is alright. It was just something I hadn’t thought of until now.” He lifted his arm up to examine under the light above the door frame, the fluorescent glow forming stark shadows under its intensity.

“How old were you when ya got it, you remember?” Jesse asked softly.

The archer sighed through his nose. “I was nineteen, though I would be turning twenty the next day. ‘A gracious birthday gift’, the clan had called it.” 

He could recall how fast his heart was beating that night, how he felt a mix of fear and elation at finally becoming a true Shimada in the eyes of the elders and his father. He had felt proud of the pain he had endured, had felt a sense of duty and honor when he finally saw the dragons taking shape on his skin. Even before the artist had finished, Hanzo remembered the way the light had begun to drift off of his arm in faint whisps, and slowly coalesced into a pair of shining dragons, hunger already in their bright-white eyes.

As if on cue, he felt one of them shift beneath his skin, curling from the tips of his fingers all the way up to shoulder blade. He shuddered, and reminded himself of where he was. “But, to answer your question, no, I did not have any choice in the final design.”

“Damn.” Jesse sadly shook his head. “S’not a bad design at all, but…” He waved a hand towards Hanzo’s arm with a shrug. “Dunno if it seems like ‘you’.”

Hanzo tilted his head. “Like… me?”

The man chuckled. “Reckon it makes me a bit ol’ fashioned, but I tend to believe a tattoo’s gotta match the person gettin’ it, y’know?” Jesse shrugged, tipping his hat back. “I know you said you didn’t get a choice, but let’s say you did. Let’s say you got to choose what you got inked on that arm of yours, or your leg, or wherever you wanted. What’dya think you would’ve gotten?”

“I…” Hanzo furrowed his brow and stared down at the head of the dragon. A choice. Those were rare opportunities when he was with the clan, and rarely were they anything important. His destiny had been chosen for him -- he would take over the Shimada-gumi after his father, and then his son would continue on that legacy, and his son’s son, and so on. There were little things for him to choose.

_ What would you choose, given the chance? _

Something nudged his shoulder. He looked to the side to see Jesse’s hand outstretched with a pen and small but thick notepad, already flipped to an empty page. The man himself was grinning, and he nodded down to the notepad.

Hanzo squinted. “Where did you get that?”

“Can’t be givin’ away all my secrets now.” Jesse’s grin turned wry as he winked. Hanzo frowned to keep himself from smiling at that. “C’mon, humor a fella for a bit, why don’cha.”

Hanzo stared down at the notepad for what felt like ages. He wasn’t being told to draw something. He wasn’t being forced to entertain these thoughts. Jesse was simply  _ asking _ . It was such a novel concept, and yet here Hanzo was realizing how few people actually _asked_ him to do anything.

Carefully, he took the notepad in hand and laid it across lap, the blank page staring up at him innocently. Hanzo clicked the pen, rested it against the page, and closed his eyes in thought.

What he wanted. Something he liked. Something he enjoyed.

With his eyes closed, he could hear the sounds of night more clearly. The chilling night breeze whistling through the metal struts. The hum of electrical units powering the base. Mechanical sounds that felt cold, were it not for the vibrant and warm people that lived inside.

But beyond all that, beyond their rooftop perch, he could hear the sounds of the waves lapping against the rocky beach below. He almost see the stark-white seafoam against the midnight blue ocean. The air tasted salty on his lips.

He remembered the koi that swam in the pond just outside the main castle. His father had told him once of a koi fish that leapt up a waterfall for one hundred years and was rewarded by the gods for its determination by turning the fish into a brilliant golden dragon. 

After a few minutes of sketching on the old notepad, he finally unclicked the pen and looked at the final design with a hesitant grin.

“I am no artist, but…” Hanzo handed the notepad back with the pen and sighed. “I… would have not minded something like this.”

Jesse looked at the page for a long while, his eyes (definitely) darting back and forth between the design and Hanzo himself, and the archer felt his face warm. Finally, he saw Jesse’s grin crack even wider and heard him laugh. 

He scowled and jerked his head away. “As I said, I am not an artist--”   
  
“Wha-- Oh, nah, it ain’t that.” Jesse held up a hand in defense, that easygoing grin still on his lips. “Think it’s actually real damn nice, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Hanzo flinched. That slow warmth on his cheeks grew. “Oh?”

“Mm-hm. Dragons’re nice an’ all, but this...” The cowboy gestured to the page. “I reckon the sea suits ya rather nicely.”

“Does it now?”

“Yeah.” Jesse’s eyes seemed to twinkle as he turned to face him. “Yeah, it really does.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me: idk if im as into ovw as i used to be  
> blizz: hey heres a cool new skin  
> Me:  
> Me: fuckin damn it FINE OKAY HERE WE GO AGAIN 
> 
> \---
> 
> As always, you can find me over at my [twitter](https://twitter.com/aerihead/)!


End file.
